


The Man of the Moment

by merry_amelie



Series: Academic Arcadia [17]
Category: Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace
Genre: Alternate Reality, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-01
Updated: 2004-04-01
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:21:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merry_amelie/pseuds/merry_amelie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illumination comes at unexpected times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Man of the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback: Is treasured at merryamelie@aol.com (or leave a comment).
> 
> Disclaimer: Mr. Lucas owns everything Star Wars. I'm not making any money.
> 
> For Alex, my friend and beta.

Quinn had just put his printed lecture notes about Whitman on the podium when the lights went out in the classroom. "Stay where you are, everyone," he said sternly. 

He calmly walked to the bank of tinted windows, and raised all the blinds as far as they would go. The early afternoon sunlight petered into the room, a third as bright as the artificial lighting had been.

Quinn looked across the quadrangle to see if other buildings had been affected, but was unable to tell in the daylight. He took out his cell phone to call Ian, who was presumably in their office.

"Ian, are the lights out there?"

"Yes. They went out about a minute ago. I'm calling Monty now; if he's affected in the city, it's a big one."

"Call me back with information, okay?"

"Certainly."

Quinn turned back to his class. "Please move to the rows nearest the windows, ladies and gentlemen." He waited a few moments for them to transfer their books, backpacks, notebooks, and pens over to the new seats.

A blonde girl in the second row said, "Aren't you going to cancel class, Professor?" 

"I may, but first let's see if you can read your books. Open to page 95, and raise your hand if you have difficulty reading." Quinn saw the students squint, though no hands were raised. 

Gazing at them hunched over their books, then over to the inviting lawn of the quadrangle, Quinn said, "How about holding class outside?"

Every hand went up in agreement, the students suddenly grateful for the loss of power. They trooped outside and claimed a sunny patch of grass for their own. Quinn allowed the class time to settle themselves, then began his lecture. 

Quinn was pleased with the day's unexpected teaching arrangement; after all, Whitman was meant to be read under the open sky, with leaves of grass for a cushion. The students were more enthusiastic and talkative in such a setting, as well.

Halfway through the period, Ian called and told Quinn the blackout was strictly local, and the company was promising that power would return in about an hour. Sure enough, just as Quinn walked into the office after class, the lights winked back on. 

"What an entrance!" said Ian, looking up from watering the plants by the window. "You're the man of the moment." 

Quinn's smile was brighter than the newly restored lights. His wattage was much more reliable than the power company's, however, and had an incandescent effect on his lover. Quinn waved his hand for effect. "Bet you didn't know I could do that, eh?" he chuckled. 

"Mmm...hidden talents," Ian drawled. "What else will I discover about you?" 

Quinn locked the door behind him. "I imagine that there's a lot of territory for you to explore yet, lad. Not here, though," he added hastily, as Ian stalked towards him.

"Of course not," Ian said virtuously, walking right by Quinn to his own desk, and laughing at his disappointed expression.

"Touche." Quinn came over to lean his hip on Ian's desk. "You're lucky your classes were over for the day before the outage." 

"Those first period courses aren't so bad after all," Ian said teasingly.

Quinn gave Ian a meaningful look. "Timing is everything." A pause, during which each thought longingly of the delights awaiting them at home. "I've a committee meeting in ten minutes, so I'll be ready to leave around 5:30."

"Now that power's been restored, I can do more research in the library. Why don't you meet me in the manuscript room?"

"Done." Quinn tucked his thumb into Ian's dimple and pressed gently. "See you then, lad," he said, and rose to leave.

* * *

When Quinn and Ian got home, they saw that the power had been out in their apartments as well. Ian reset the wall clocks and radios; Quinn, the microwaves and DVD.

"It's a good thing they restored power before sunset," Ian said, when they met in 'his' kitchen. 

"True. Cereal for dinner is not exactly appetizing." Quinn kissed Ian lingeringly. "But this," he kissed the tip of Ian's nose, "most definitely is." 

Ian burrowed his way into Quinn's shirt. "Umm-hmm," he said, voice muffled by fabric.

They embraced for a few more moments, in no hurry to start cooking. Then Quinn began to make his famous spinach lasagna.

Ian said, "I'll go round up some flashlights just in case, but I want to grate the asiago for you, so leave it for me."

"Remember to check if they're working; last time we found two of them, but the batteries were out of juice in both."

"I replaced them and bought more flashlights and batteries the next day."

"Let me guess: now all you have to do is find them?"

"Too true," said Ian, and with an ironic wave, he went off in search of illumination. He returned to the kitchen in seven minutes with a small cardboard box in hand, and a triumphant smile on his face. "Here they are." Ian set them on the counter, well away from Quinn's preparations.

True to his word, Ian started to help Quinn with his cooking, grating the asiago cheese for him. When the lasagna was bubbling away in the oven, and they'd cleaned up the mess and themselves, Ian took out the new flashlights. He handed Quinn one with a green casing, saving the blue for himself. They activated them together.

"These are proper torches," said Quinn with satisfaction. "The old ones were small and flickering. These have a steady, wide beam." Quinn's own beam at Ian followed suit. "Good choice, lad."

"We'll keep one in a nightstand, and the second by the entrance. I'll buy more for next door tomorrow." 

"Good. Let's eat." 

They left Ian's flashlight in the kitchen for now, and Quinn took his to the front door, while Ian served up the lasagna. The lights dimmed, then came on again while the men ate dinner. Quinn headed for the counter immediately, turning on the flashlight and getting candles from a drawer. 

"Guess they haven't quite fixed the problem yet," Ian said wryly.

"The lights were only off for about two hours earlier; maybe they'll have it in hand quickly this time."

Predictably, as soon as Quinn had said this, the lights went off completely. They continued their meal in the glow of candlelight. The eating nook took on the ambience of their favorite Italian restaurant, with the added benefit of privacy. Their free hands entwined, and a few aromatic kisses were bestowed upon wine-wet lips. 

"A bit of romance on a weeknight; the power company doesn't want us to feel let down after Valentine's Day." Quinn's voice was as dry as the merlot.

He kept Ian's hand in his, and led him to the soft cotton rug in the living room, pressing him gently upon it. Scooping up the quilt from the couch, Quinn threw it over Ian and himself, and folded Ian into his arms. The low light from the dining nook was even dimmer here; the men were in their own little world, drawing together in the dark. Touch, for them, had long ago become sustenance -- life and light -- and they felt that same power now.

No man-made sound disturbed their silent union: no whir of heater, no refrigerator drone. The usual background noise was completely stilled, the moment become unusual in its absence.

Kisses turned out to be the perfect way to blend into each other in such a basic environment, growing sweeter and more intoxicating with repetition. Quiet conversation thrived in the intervals between them.

"Remember, there's always a baby boom after a blackout," Ian whispered.

"We don't need to worry about that, lad, but perhaps we could generate a sonic boom..."

"Or two," Ian interrupted with a naughty laugh. 

They did just that, then dozed for a couple of hours. When the two woke up, Quinn wanted to pick up where they'd left off, but a postponement was necessary. 

Ian had practical considerations in mind. "I drank a little too much wine. Be back in a minute."

Quinn said, "I'll go with you." 

They walked slower than usual, keeping an eye out for unexpected obstacles. Quinn noticed on the way that it was 11 pm by the clock radio on the nightstand. He held the flashlight so that Ian could see what he was doing, then Ian returned the favor for him, accompanied by many a chuckle at the awkwardness inherent in this situation.

"At least the water's still on," said the ever-flippant and resourceful Ian.

The men walked into the corridor, and Quinn saw the radio again, this time realizing the signficance of the LCD display. The lights were on, in the bedroom at least. They returned to the bathroom, and flipped every switch from there to the kitchen. The bathroom, hallway, and bedroom all had power, but that was it. Apparently, the electricity was on in exactly half the apartment. Neither man had ever experienced such a thing before, but the two were quick to find the humor in it. 

Quinn couldn't resist flicking on the bathroom light in particular. "After that cumbersome expedition," he snorted, and started laughing hard.

"Felt like Stanley and Livingstone. It's too rich." Ian quickly joined in Quinn's laughter, and they embraced each other, free of the flashlight that had been cramping their style. 

"And just when it's time to turn the lights off for the night," said Quinn, as he steered Ian towards the bedroom and suited the action to the word. 


End file.
